


Cover Story

by caecily



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 09:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2503433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caecily/pseuds/caecily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only reason Tim keeps kissing his bodyguard is because it makes a good cover. That's all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cover Story

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tim/Kon week.

Kon’s definitely the weirdest bodyguard he’s ever had. Not that he has that many to compare to, but Tim’s pretty sure that Kon has talked more in three minutes than his last bodyguard had in three months.

When they’re safely home at Wayne Manor, Nelson had usually disappeared to monitor the security cameras, or patrol the grounds, or whatever he did when he was off-duty. Instead, Kon slumps on the couch next to Tim, stealing his popcorn and critiquing his zombie-killing moves.

Clark vouched for him, Tim reminds himself. Though Clark is a man who voluntarily wears flannel, so his judgment is questionable.

"Shoulda gone for the boss first, ignore the minions," Kon advises when Tim dies again.

Tim turns to him in exasperation. “This game has co-op, you know. Do you want to just join in?”

"Yes! That’d be awesome, dude. Thanks!" Kon wipes his buttery fingers carelessly on his jeans and takes the other controller. Tim restarts the level.

"You knocked me into the spike pit!"

"Sorry! I didn’t realize that combo does a backslide."

Kon’s tank-class warrior complements Tim’s rogue pretty well, once Kon has figured out the controls. He makes good use of his shield, providing cover for Tim while he takes out the mob. It’s not a bad system.

The warrior heroically dives in front of an arrow for Tim’s rogue, giving him just enough time to quaff a health potion. Tim snorts when he realizes that Kon is still guarding him, in the _game_.

Completely unnecessarily, of course, but it gives him a warm feeling all the same. It’s better than playing with Damian, whointentionallyknocks Tim into the spike pits and takes all the loot for himself.

They beat that boss and go on to finish three more levels, before calling it quits at three in the morning.

* * *

 

Tim isn’t actually planning on bringing his bodyguard along for his snooping. His plan is that Kon will get him a drink and that Tim will slip out, returning quickly enough he plausibly could’ve been somewhere in the crowd. It had always worked fairly well with Nelson.

But he’s only just gotten out of the ballroom when Kon is behind him, arms crossed and glowering. There isn’t time to argue with him, not without attracting attention. He puts Kon to use as a lookout while Tim looks for the financial records.

"Tim! The guard is coming!" Kon whispers. Tim mentally calculates how much longer the search will run and grimaces.

"I need ten more minutes," he whispers back, thinking quickly. They can’t leave until the program finishes, and the sleek glass furniture of the office doesn’t provide much in the way of shelter. They’re going to need a cover story.

"Tim, we don’t _have_ ten more minutes—”

"Quick, come here," Tim hisses, and hops onto the desk, strategically blocking sight of the computer with his body. The guard walks in just as Tim slides their mouths together.

"Hey, you can’t do that in here — Mr. Wayne!" The guard’s voice changes abruptly as he recognizes the intruder. Tim separates from Kon and flashes his best Wayne smile at the guard, the one he learned from Bruce.

"So sorry to inconvenience you," Tim purrs. "I hope this can make up for your trouble?" He offers a thick stack of bills, more money than the guard likely makes in a month.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Wayne, it’s no trouble at all," the guard assures him eagerly. The money disappears in his pocket. "Let me just show you back to the party."

Kon clears his throat and looms a little when it looks like the guard is going to take Tim’s arm. The guard takes one look at Kon’s face and takes a large step back. “I’ll show Mr. Wayne back in a minute,” Kon says,  letting his hand drape over Tim’s hip, warm and possessive.

"Of — of course," the guard says hesitantly, but Kon doesn’t even wait for him to finish before pressing Tim back into the desk.

Unlike the earlier kiss, which was cut off before it even started, this one is slow, thorough, like Kon islearninghim. The hand that’s not on Tim’s hip cups his neck, stroking through his hair and making Tim shiver.

The computer behind him beeps. Tim breaks away from the kiss; the guard is already long gone. “The search is done,” he says breathlessly. Kon doesn’t stop nuzzling his jaw. “I, I need to check—” He half-heartedly pushes Kon away. Kon lets go but keepswatchinghim, an intent gaze that Tim can feel even as he closes the program and detaches his drive.

They head back to the party and slip in effortlessly. With any luck, no one but the guard knows that they ever left.

* * *

 

He’s given up on trying to leave Kon behind for his missions — it’s too hard to keep him away without drawing unnecessary attention, and besides, Kon proves to be useful. Tim is accustomed to working alone, but it’s rather nice, having someone to watch his back.

They sneak away from the Cadmus Labs anniversary gala to start looking at the other, unpublicized research. Kon hears footsteps coming and pulls Tim into the nearest utility closet.

It’s a tight, cramped space. Even if Kon were trying not to touch him, it’d be difficult — and Kon isn’t trying.

Kon has one arm braced against the wall next to his head, bending down so his face is almost even with Tim. There’s an anticipatory smirk on his face.

Tim licks his lips. “Maybe… just in case they look in here,” he breathes out, and Kon’s smirk broadens as he cuts Tim off with a kiss.

It’s not the most solid cover Tim has ever used, considering that they’re a little far from the gala for just a quickie. On the other hand, the way Kon is lifting Tim off the ground with one solid thigh between his legsispretty convincing. Tim would be convinced.

He maintains enough presence of mind that when a few minutes go by and there’s no sign of anyone outside, he forces himself to turn away. “I think it’s clear. Let’s move,” he whispers, and Kon sets him back on the ground.

Kon cracks the door and checks carefully. “We’re good.”

They resume searching the rest of the laboratory without further incident.

* * *

 

"Vicki Vale has been asking about you," Bruce informs him over breakfast. "She’s very curious about your extracurricular activities."

Tim’s mind spins furiously, considering and casting aside angles. “Perhaps a personal interview might assuage her concerns,” he says, and Bruce grunts noncommittally in answer. It’s his choice as to how to handle it, then.

"How is your new bodyguard doing?" Bruce says casually, and Tim nearly chokes on his pancake. It’s only long years of Bruce-training that keep his face calm. Bruce is making every pretense of studying his newspaper, but Tim knows that Bruce is carefully scrutinizing his reaction.

"Kon? I think he’s doing well. We work well together." Does Bruce know? Not that there’s anythingtoknow, aside from … mission-related covers, which barely count.

"Very well. I trust your judgment," Bruce says, and maybe it’s an answer in more ways than one.

* * *

 

"Kon. We need to talk," Tim says, setting down his controller, and Kon follows suit.

"Tim? Is something wrong, dude?" Kon says quizzically, studying Tim with a frown.

"Nothing’s wrong. I just need your help with something."

"Of course. Anything," Kon says immediately, and Tim holds up a hand to forestall him.

"Vicki Vale has been asking about me. If she puts things together about my … activities, it will be much harder to operate discreetly. I’m planning on giving her another, juicier scandal to distract her."

"Okay," Kon says slowly when Tim pauses. "So, what is it?"

"If you agree — then I plan on letting her discover that I’m in a relationship with my bodyguard," Tim says. Before Kon can say anything, he says in a rush, "Though if you would prefer that I not, your job is in no danger—"

"Sure, that’s fine," Kon says easily. "Is that all?"

Tim hesitates. “Are you sure? It wouldn’t cause any … problems for you?”

"Nah. I’m not dating anyone right now." He smirks. "Aside from you, apparently."

* * *

 

It’s not too different from before. Kon accompanies Tim to all the parties and benefits that he attends as a Wayne, and covers his back when he needs to investigate further. Now Kon simply stands a little closer, touches him more, escorts him with a hand on the small of his back. Looks at Tim with that soft look in his eyes. He’s a much better actor than Tim had given him credit for.

Within a month of this arrangement, Vicki Vale comes up to him, looking smug and offering him a chance to give his side before she breaks the story. He declines.

The next morning, there’s a picture of Tim and Kon on the front page. He’d known it was coming, of course, though he’d been expecting a different picture. Kon’s been kissing him as cover enough times for someoneto have snapped a shot by now.

It’s not one of their mission covers. Kon had insisted on going to the _Wendy the Werewolf Stalker_ movie premiere when he found out that Tim was invited. The picture is of the part where Kon decided to enthusiastically re-enact a scene from the movie in the parking lot by backing Tim against the car and growling. Tim remembers rolling his eyes and batting Kon off. They’re not even kissing.

… They look pretty happy, though. It’s a good thing that Bruce is on a business trip in Japan; Tim isn’t sure he could deal with watching Bruce reading this over breakfast.

It’s not much of a save, though, since Bludhaven also gets copies of the _Gotham Gazette_.

Dick, ever true to his name, insists upon on meeting Kon officially.

"You’vealreadymet him,” Tim hisses at the phone.

"Well, he wasn’t yourboyfriendthen, Timmy,” Dick says reasonably. “Anyway, it’s too late. I already made reservations. I’ll see you and Kon tomorrow!”

He hangs up before Tim can protest further. Tim glares at the dial tone.

* * *

 

Since Dick picked a public venue, that means they still have to maintain the cover. Tim is pretty sure that Dick arranged it this way on purpose, just to be as eponymous as possible.

"Tim! It’s been too long, you should come down to Bludhaven sometime," Dick says, engulfing him in a hug and ruffling his hair. Kon gets the same treatment. "And Kon! Welcome to the family."

Tim kicks him under the table as soon as they sit down. If anything, Dick’s grin only broadens. “So, Tim! I didn’t want to get into it over the phone, but you have to tell me now. How’d you two get together?”

Kon slings an arm around Tim. “He just couldn’t resist my charms and kissed me out of the blue,” Kon says. “And I wasn’t gonna let him get away with pretending it was nothing. I had to ease him into admitting it, though.” His thumb traces tiny circles on the back of Tim’s neck, more tease than actual touch. Tim does his best not to shiver under the caress.

"If I recall correctly, _I_ asked _you_ out,” Tim says crossly, arms folded.

"Sure, after you freaked out and pretended it didn’t mean anything," Kon says.

"That’s not what — I didn’t freak out," Tim says, caught off guard. Where is Kon going with this? Next time he’s making Kon memorize a prepared statement. Dick is looking back and forth between the two of them, considering.

"You totally did. But don’t worry, it’s one of your charms," Kon says fondly.

Thankfully, at this point the waiter arrives with their wine. Tim downs his glass and pours himself another to fortify himself against this conversation.

Dick makes them go through every part of their cover story’s background, from their first date (“I cooked dinner and we marathoned the first season of Wendy. Can you believe Tim has never seen it?”) to whether Tim has met Kon’s parents (“Not yet, but Ma Kent insists I bring him around”). Kon doesn’t say anything else strange, and Tim gradually relaxes. The wine helps.

* * *

 

 ”So, little brother,” Dick says, when they’re back at Wayne Manor and Kon has given them some privacy. “What’s _really_ going on with you and Kon?”

"Don’t pretend like you don’t already know that it’s a cover," Tim says, irritated. "Vicki Vale was getting a little too interested in me. This is keeping her off our trail nicely."

"And that’s all there is to it," Dick says skeptically.

"Yes," Tim says firmly, jutting out his chin when Dick continues to look dubious.

"So there’s no reason you picked that cover. Even though you could have picked anything else. Or anyone else."

Tim groans and buries his face into a pillow. The problem with his family is that they’re all too goddamned observant, and while Bruce usually refrains from commenting on Tim’s personal life, Dick has no such restraint. “My judgment might be. A little compromised,” Tim mutters without looking at Dick.

"Oh, Tim," Dick sighs, pulling Tim into a hug. "You could just tell him that you like him, you know."

Tim bolts upright. “Don’t say _anything_ to Kon,” he says fiercely. “I don’t want him to know.”

"I won’t," Dick soothes. "But for the record, the kid is crazy about you. You should think about telling him."

Dick’s largest flaw as a judge of human character is his eternal optimism; Tim knows better than to believe him.

"Mm," Tim says noncommittally. Dick frowns, but doesn’t press the subject further.

* * *

 

The likelihood of anyone physically attacking a Wayne is low enough  that Tim could almost forget what Kon’s primary job is.

They’ve just stepped out of the car, on their way to a Wayne Enterprises meeting, when Kon stiffens suddenly, looking around them.

"Get down," Kon yells, tackling Tim to the floor just as the gunshot rings out. Tim can feel the impact reverberate through Kon as it hits.

"Kon? Kon!" Tim says urgently. "Are you all right?"

"Get … into the car.Now,” Kon hisses out with difficulty. He’s clutching his side, and his face has gone white.

"Not without you," Tim insists, and with effort he gets Kon’s arm over his shoulder, and drags him into the relative shelter of the car, with Kon cursing his stubbornness the whole way. As soon as the car door closes, Alfred hits the gas and has them on their way back to Wayne Manor.

"I’m fine," Kon insists as Tim helps him to the couch. "I need to go engage the security protocols."

"Alfred’s doing that now," Tim says, kneeling on the floor next to Kon. "Youcan sit still and let me take a look.”

Kon sighs and slumps back on the couch, letting Tim ease off the suit jacket, dress shirt, and kevlar vest. “I’m having kevlar added to all your dress clothes,” Tim says absently.

"Yours too," Kon says firmly.

There’s a wicked looking bruise along Kon’s ribs, dark and almost black. But no bullet wound, and nothing looks broken. Tim stares and can’t swallow for a moment. There’s something sharp and ugly lodged in his throat.

It must show on his face, because Kon says, soft, coaxing, “Hey, Tim. I’m okay. I promise.”

He nods, forcing his expression to clear because Kon shouldn’t be comfortinghimwhen he’s the one hurt."Let me get something to put on this."

"Sure you can’t just kiss it better?" Kon says lightly, and Tim doesn’t think, just leans forwards. Presses his mouth gently against the edge of the bruise. Above him, Kon gasps.

"Fuck, Tim," Kon swears, and his voice is hoarse. "You’re killing me. If you don’t — if you don’t mean this for real—"

"It’s all real for me," Tim confesses into Kon’s warm skin. "All along."

Kon’s hands rest on his waist and pull up, yanking Tim onto the couch, on top of Kon. It must hurt to have Tim on top of that bruise. Tim tries to pull away but Kon doesn’t let him, crushing him close with a hand on his back.

They’ve kissed any number of times before, but this will always be the one Tim remembers as their first.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Also on [Tumblr](http://caeciling.tumblr.com/post/100669266159/cover-story-the-best-lies-are-true-for-tim-kon).


End file.
